Don’t cry for me, I beg you. I am happy to be reaching a time when people my parents’ ages stop looking at me like I’m a kid–which I am hoping also means I’ll be offered jobs that pay at least slightly better than french fry money.

However, there are days when I feel my age more than others, and this year Halloween was one of those days. Given my method of celebration yesterday compared to ten, or even five years ago, I can identify at least five ways in which things have changed:

I can only survive one night of heavy drinking—and I’m not afraid to admit it! The first bit of this statement is nothing new. Beginning two or three years ago, it became a fact that I would bail on Saturday night house parties because I drank too much at the bars on Friday and couldn’t leave my couch until Sunday. This year, after analyzing the recent pattern, I decided to forgo Friday night at the bars in favor of a Saturday night house party. And therein lies the wisdom of my old age—I KNOW I can only survive one night of drinking, I’ve ACCEPTED it as a fact of life from now on, and I PLAN my hangover accordingly. That’s maturity, people.

I avoid the crowds. In the past, large groups of half-drunk college students in cobbled together getups was the definition of Halloween to me. This year, chocolate-covered almonds. Redd’s Apple Ale and an 11:30 bedtime made for a pretty happy Halloween.

Rather than spending $100+ on the materials to make an original costume, I fabricate something that looks vaguely like a famous person from whatever is in my closet. I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that I had everything I needed for a Garth Algar outfit with absolutely no supplemental trips to the thrift store needed.

Apparently I’ve been shopping like a 20-something musician in the 90s. No wonder people look at me funny.

I have stopped fighting with the weather. While I fully support “Sexy Everything” Halloween costumes, and I still see many years of sexy Halloween in my future…for better or worse, I live in Wisconsin. And it is REALLY COLD OUTSIDE. So from now on, sexy or not, my costumes are coming with layers. And a hat.

November 1st used to be a sad day because it meant the festivities were over, but now it means I am one day closer to Thanksgiving. You have to admit, Halloween is one of the more hig-energy holidays on the calendar: special clothes, big crazy parties parties, Trick-or-Treating, egging houses/general mayhem and the potential running that is involved with that…all so much fun, but SO MUCH WORK. To be honest, a holiday where it’s weird if you DON’T spend the whole day on your couch eating everything within arms reach is much more my speed.

Today is November 1st. It is the Saturday after Halloween. I still plan to put on my flannel shirt and vintage tee and walk around saying things like “Party on, Wayne” all night. I still plan to hang out with my friends, eat mini-Snickers bars by the handful and drink plenty of adult beverages. And I still plan to stay up until 4am finishing my game of Costume Quest 2 (hoping to report more on that later). And—and this might be the best part about getting old—I feel completely and totally satisfied with that decision.